Dulce Et Decorum Est
My sweetest boy, I loved him best.
He was my heart, my soul, my life
I am his widow, was his wife.
They speed him through a darkening night
A chastened, hastened final flight.
They bring him home, his pain to cease
And lay my love to rest in peace.
Some tokens of a life in vain
Of death and honour, joy and pain.
Polished boots, an old kit bag
His coffin, draped in union flag.
Paraded through a sombre town
A howling, scowling wind blows down.
A gun salute with faces bowed
His family numb, his country proud.
The town clock strikes a deathly chime
A bandsman beats his drum in time.
The bugler stands to play Last Post
And send him to a land of ghosts.
This hand of death a cruel thief
A haunted Mother's endless grief.
Her son, who clasped her hand at birth
Entombed by unforgiving earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem